


R & R

by Nestri



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 12:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestri/pseuds/Nestri
Summary: After the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve leaves Bucky in Sam's care to destroy what's left of Hydra. Sam would've gladly joined him had he not been injured, if only to escape these pesky feelings he's starting to develop.





	R & R

Sam watches his coffee brew idly, cane tucked against the counter. He’s groggy and not quite awake for the early hour, which is what he blames for startling so severely when Barnes enters the room silently. 

He grimaces when he lands from the startled jolt. He sits down at his kitchen table with a huff as Barnes looks at him with eyes wide as saucers. He rubs at his hip, massaging the sore joint. 

“Gotta wear a damn bell or somethin’ man,” he says with no real heat but Barnes’ expression that follows makes him think he accidentally said he makes fur coats out of puppies. 

Sam waves away the worried expression, “I’m kidding.” 

Barnes still looks like he swallowed a lemon but his hunched shoulders have relaxed a bit. Once the flare of pain in his hip calms down, Sam shuffles over to his coffee pot. 

“Want a cup?” He pours some for himself, his back turned from the ex-assassin. He does this intentionally, letting Barnes see he’s willing to trust. He hopes its working. Barnes seems to carry around a cloak of self doubt and self hatred. Sam feels way out of his depth most times but Steve trusted him with helping out his dear friend. He’d be damned if he would disappoint Captain America. 

Realizing too much time has passed since he asked his question, Sam carefully turns around. He knows social interaction is hard for Barnes and so he’s somewhat surprised his offer of coffee didn’t scare the quiet man off to his room. In his darkest moments, Sam worries that Barnes is using his guest bedroom as a self imposed prison. He has no desires to be a jailer and so he’s always relieved when Barnes ventures out of the spare room. 

Barnes is still in the kitchen, and to Sam’s surprise, he’s taken a seat at the table. He still looks worried and his shoulders are back at their place next to his ears. He’s folding in on himself and Sam swallows. He hasn’t seen the man look like this since they first started living together. Barnes had been lost without Steve and spent most of his days living up to his reputation as a ghost. Well, Sam thought, the Winter Soldier’s reputation as a ghost. Barnes wasn’t the Winter Soldier and he’d fight anyone who thought so. 

The fierceness of the thought startles Sam and he refocuses on the man in front of him. “Everything alright?” he asks carefully. 

Barnes sighs and refuses eye contact. He’s hiding behind his long shaggy hair. “I’m getting a job,” Barnes announces louder than he’s said anything in the past couple weeks. The man doesn’t do a whole bunch of announcing so Sam struggles to keep from dropping his jaw. 

“Can I ask what brought this on?” Sam wants to ask why the hell, it’s too soon, am I not feeding you enough but he doesn’t want the other man to get defensive. 

“I’ve been stayin here, for free, doing nothing,” the tragic look of self loathing overtakes Barnes’ expression and Sam knows he needs to tread carefully. 

“You’re recovering. If you think I want rent or something you’re wrong.”

“Recovering,” Barnes says the word with so much contempt Sam almost flinches, “ain’t gonna pay the bills.” 

“But recovery is a job. A full time one at that,” Sam’s tone brooks no argument. Then he thinks more about what Barnes just said. 

“Have you been looking at my mail?” Sam can’t help but ask. It might explain Barnes’ sudden interest in his finances. 

“Yes.” Barnes says and for a second there he looks defiant, chin jutting out similar to the way Steve’s does when he’s feeling self righteous. This time, Sam’s jaw does drop. 

“Did you also see I never miss a payment? My pocket’s not hurtin from you being here, Barnes.” But the man still looks contrite. 

“Bucky,” he says and wow that’s new. 

“Alright, Bucky,” and it feels weird on Sam’s tongue, “what would you even do?” Sam realizes its a misstep when Barnes, no Bucky, hunches in on himself again defensively. 

“I mean, what do you like to do?” Sam corrects himself. Bucky relaxes slightly and he shakes his head. 

“‘M not sure. Figured I’d ask around, fill out applications.” 

Sam’s heart clenches, knowing how taxing ‘asking around’ would be for Bucky. “How about we take a look online first? You can use my laptop and you can apply from there.” 

The relief on the man’s face causes Sam’s chest to unclench and he lets a small smile soften his face. 

“Hold on a sec,” he grabs his cane and hobbles to his living room. Holding the laptop while leaning on the cane is a bit of a balancing act but he manages. 

He spends the day showing Bucky how to look up jobs online. It gives Sam a good idea about the type of job Bucky is looking for. When they realize Bucky needs a resume and cover letter and has neither Sam promises he’ll look into it at the VA. Bucky accepts this and vanishes into his room, seemingly out of social energy. 

Sam keeps his promise and before the week is through Bucky has a phone interview at a cafe. 

Bucky is visibly nervous before his first interview even though Sam had run him through a mock interview and he’d done very well. 

“You got this. You aced the mock interview.” Bucky swallows but seems to brighten at the praise. Sam’s heart flutters but he quickly ignores it, though he does offer Bucky a toothy grin. Bucky returns his grin with a small, shy smile and Sam wills his heart to stop beating so fast. Don’t go there Wilson, he tells himself and its not long before the phone rings. 

Sam gets up to give Bucky some privacy but the man looks panicked as he leaves. Sam sits back down and listens to Bucky quietly. He tries his best not to feel awkward. 

Bucky is nervous on the phone, but he’s polite and answers the questions well. To Sam though, the 30 minutes seem to stretch into hours as he feels some nervousness of his own. At the end of the interview, Bucky thanks the person on the other side of the phone but it’s unclear what he’s feeling. Bucky hangs up and breathes out. He stares blankly and Sam’s stomach drops. 

“So? Don’t leave me hangin,” Bucky looks up with a smile that lights up his entire face and makes him look younger. Sam wonders why the air decided to leave the room. 

“They said they liked me and I have an in person interview,” Bucky says, slightly breathless. 

“Hey! That’s amazing, congrats!” Sam can’t remember the last time he’s felt this happy. He’s so proud he can’t help but let a fond smile stretch his face. He thinks that the job may have been a pretty good idea. Bucky seems happy and the cloud of self doubt seems to have started to clear. 

Bucky’s smile turns shy, “thanks.” He ducks his head before a look of horror overtakes his face. Sam frowns in confusion. 

“Sam,” and he doesn’t think Bucky’s ever used his name before, “I have nothing to wear.” 

Sam puts up his hands placatingly. “If you want to take a trip to the VA,” and Bucky instantly looks wary, ready to refuse, but Sam powers through, “we can go through some of the donated clothes. There’s got to be something that fits you.” 

Bucky still looks wary but he nods once. He must really want this job, Sam thinks. 

They travel to the VA the next day after hours. Though Sam is injured, he can still drive well enough and they take his car. Bucky looks out the window, lost in thought. 

Sam fills the silence with the radio, humming along to songs he recognizes. He’s surprised when Bucky joins in quietly every so often. The drive is otherwise pretty quick. Sam’s hip flares up once or twice but it’s not bad enough that he feels that he needs to pull over. 

Donated clothing is kept in the basement of the VA and Sam’s glad he has a key. They sort through clothing in silence. Every shirt Bucky touches goes into the No pile they had been building. Currently they have 3 shirts in Maybe, at least a dozen in No and none in the Yes. Sam pauses and takes a look at Bucky. The man is tense. His jaw is clenched as if he’s going into battle, not picking an outfit. 

“Let’s take a break,” Sam says softly, hefting himself onto a chair in the corner. Bucky continues to sort and his movements become more frantic as he tosses clothes into the No pile. He practically wrestles with each shirt as he janks them from the storage bins, barely looks at it as he roughly turns it front and back, before flinging it A light blue button down gets the same treatment, getting thrashed about roughly as Bucky seems to abandon all precedence that he’s actually considering the shirt. 

“Buc-” Sam’s concern is interrupted by the sound of the shirt ripping. Bucky looks pissed, his face twisted into a snarl. 

“It won’t fit,” Bucky growls and Sam’s about to ask him what he means before he realizes Bucky is glaring at his metal arm. Oh, Sam thinks. The words make his mouth dry up and he’s lost on how to help. 

Sam opens his mouth to try but Bucky beats him to it with a heated, “I don’t want to hear it.” 

Sam lifts his hands placatingly and this seems to piss Bucky off more. 

“You deserve to be pissed,” because after what happened to him, Sam would be concerned if Bucky wasn’t angry. He’s not sure what to say and his words hang in the air. Bucky whirls on him, stepping away from the carnage. 

“You don’t have to tell me how to feel, I can do that just fine on my own. I definitely don’t need to hear it from my babysitter.” Sam recoils, hurt. 

“Listen, I’m just trying to help.” He glares back, standing up faster than he should, and he’s not proud of himself but he lashes out too, if only in response to the pain sitting right where his heart happens to be. They quickly devolve into a shouting match about everything and nothing at all. Bucky always leaving the lights on. Sam always putting empty juice cartons back in the refrigerator. Bucky rearranging his alphabetically sorted records in no discernible pattern. Sam leaving the blinds open so the whole neighborhood and any sniper can get a good view. 

It all comes to a head when Sam picks up one of the button ups and chucks it at Bucky. The shirt flutters to the floor a few feet in front of the man. The cloth laying harmlessly on the floor is enough to snap them out of their argument. 

Bucky snorts, and before long he’s chuckling. Sam soon joins him and together their laughing in the VA basement as if they were at a comedy show. 

Sam sobers quickly though and he makes eye contact with Bucky, “I’m sorry.” He says clearly.

Bucky shakes his head, sobering too. “No, Sam. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. You’re just tryna help a fella out. I was out of line.” Bucky looks ashamed as he shuffles in place, rubbing a hand through his unruly hair. 

“Ok, we’re both sorry. Now can we find you a damn shirt for this interview? I think I have an idea.” 

They leave the VA with Bucky’s new interview outfit and a few other work clothes for good luck. There’s a absence of a tension Sam hadn’t even realized was present. He wonders how long they both had been bottling up some anger. Sam’s glad they could move forward, his fondness for the man not waning in the slightest. 

“Disney Movie Night,” Sam announces into the air. The other man stares at him as if Sam spoke in one of the few language that Bucky doesn’t know. Sam can feel his face heat, rethinking his idea a bit but he’s already put it out there. 

“It’s something me and my sister used to do after a stressful day. We’d binge watch disney movies and eat popcorn,” Sam feels unsure. Bucky still has a confused expression but he says, “Ok.” 

That’s how they find themselves on opposite ends of the couch, watching The Little Mermaid of all things, sharing a bowl of popcorn. Bucky seems to be enraptured by the images and songs. His eyes hadn’t left the screen once and Sam couldn’t stop staring at him. 

Bucky catches his eye once and Sam reminds himself why its a bad idea to make a move. Bucky’s dependency on Sam’s hospitality, for one, scares him off the idea. He’s also not sure if these new feelings come from proximity. They’d been living together for a couple weeks now, getting comfortable makes sense. He figures once he returns to work and has something else to do besides stare at Bucky, his feelings will fade. Not to mention, as far as he knows, Bucky doesn’t look at men and certainly not at Sam Wilson. He settles in to enjoy the movie and stays on his side of the couch. 

He wakes up an hour later, not even knowing when he fell asleep, to a blanket being draped over him. Sam watches Bucky leave the room quietly, stretching out fully on the couch though it causes pain to flare in his hip. 

The day of the interview, Bucky is practically vibrating with anxiety. “Wanna go through some breathing exercises?” He does and they spend 30 minutes on mindful breathing exercises. Bucky looks less nervous but still uncomfortable. When Bucky goes upstairs to prepare for his interview, Sam realizes he’s feeling some nerves too. 

When Bucky rejoins him downstairs, Sam’s tongue gets stuck to the roof of his mouth. The dark blue henley he picked out stretches across Bucky’s broad muscled shoulders. The black slacks he wore accentuated his thick thighs but what really gets Sam is that Bucky has slicked back his hair. His chiseled face is on display, a slight dusting of facial hair frames his down turned mouth. His brows are furrowed with worry. 

Sam gives him a thumbs up, mouth still dry. Bucky gives a small smile that comes out as more of a grimace. He still seems unsure. 

“You look perfect.” Then it’s Sam’s turn to look like he sucked a lemon because maybe that was too much, “for the interview.” He adds lamely but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice his panic as he mutters a small thank you. 

Sam offers to walk with Bucky to the cafe since it’s pretty close to his house but Bucky just gives a pointed look to his cane. So Sam stays and waits with trepidation. He occupies himself by cleaning around his house. The pain in his hip isn’t that bad anymore. In fact, he bet he could walk from room to room without his cane. He doesn’t try though. And he finds himself loitering around his front door when he thinks Bucky is due back any moment. 

Bucky uses his key for the first time since he moved in and Sam shuffles over to the couch. He tries to seem casual, flicking on something random, but he knows he fails miserably. 

Bucky comes in quietly and it takes every bit of self restraint to keep from asking about the interview. 

Bucky breathes out, “I think it went well.” 

Sam reigns in his reaction. “That’s great. Did they say when they would make a decision?” 

“They’ll call next week to let me know if I didn’t get it.” 

“Or if you did,” Sam wheedles. Bucky huffs out a laugh and they silently decide to watch another Disney movie. The next movie is The Lion King and Sam isn’t afraid to admit that he sniffles a bit throughout. 

This time, Bucky’s the one that falls asleep and his head lolls before the credits roll. Sam can’t find it in himself to be offended even though Bucky happens to be missing a masterpiece. 

The next week passes in a blur. Their days are caught up in the anticipation of the phone ringing. Every time it does ring, and nine times out of ten it’s a telemarketer, they would both tense. Days later, finally the phone rings early in the morning and the cafe asks to speak to ‘Mr. James Barnes’. Sam holds the phone out to Bucky and then exits the room as swiftly as he can. 

He can only hear Bucky’s muffled side of the conversation. He tries not to eavesdrop and busies himself with making breakfast. It’s a simple spread; eggs, bacon, and pancakes but it’s comfort food just in case the news isn’t good. He’s frying the bacon when Bucky walks in, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, he breaks out into a full blown smile that knocks Sam’s breath away. 

“I got the job!” 

“Hey! Congrats, I’m so happy for you!” Sam’s grin threatens to split his face, “we gotta celebrate, man.” 

“Yea?” Bucky grins shyly, looking proud of himself. 

“Hell yea, it’s Taco Tuesday,” Sam says with a straight face and he’s rewarded with Bucky’s airy laugh. 

They do have Mexican for dinner and even stay in the restaurant. It’s a good day for Bucky and he’s more talkative than he’s been in the past. He impresses their waitress, and secretly Sam, with accented Spanish. 

Sam just shakes his head once she leaves. “Bag of tricks,” he says and Bucky still looks proud of himself. 

Once they get home, bellies full and sated, they try to call Steve with the good news. The Captain seems to still be in radio silence but they leave a message anyway, knowing that Steve would see a missed call and panic. 

When Bucky starts his job, Sam has never seen the man happier. He begins to come home with things. A better toaster, placemats for the kitchen table, and even a new coffee maker. Sam knows its Bucky’s way of contributing to the household because they both know Sam’s not accepting rent. Sam just hopes Bucky is spending some of his new paychecks on himself too but he doesn’t ask. He feels too involved in Bucky’s pocket as it is. 

Sam begins to work at the VA again, only needing the cane when he climbs the stairs. It feels good to be back. He had been so bored with not much to do. Especially once Bucky had started up his job. Sam’s warmly welcomed by his coworkers. His therapy group members are similarly glad to see him back. In his absence, a coworker had taken over and she’s good, very good, but Sam had made deep connections with these veterans as he’s gotten to know more. 

Sam sees Bucky even less than he used to with their new working schedules. He always tries to have breakfast with Bucky but sometimes the man is already at work. And sometimes Sam works late, so they miss each other at dinner too. 

One day, he decides to leave work early and surprise Bucky with an old Wilson family recipe. His Grandmother and Mother would make Chicken Stew during certain holidays and for special guests. It’s not a date. It’s not. And Sam has no intention of telling Bucky about the way he feels over dinner. He had just missed the man is all. He’s pulling the bread out of the oven when he hears the front door open. He forces himself to stay in the kitchen and not greet the man at the door like a golden retriever. 

Obviously smelling the food, Bucky calls out, “Sam?” 

“Kitchen!” Sam tells him but he can already hear Bucky’s foot falls get closer. Bucky’s grinning and Sam grins back, intoxicated by Bucky’s good mood. 

“Something smells good,” Bucky says, and takes a place at the table. Sam laughs and ladles some stew into two bowls for Bucky. 

They sit and eat in companionable silence, Bucky humming his approval with every bite. Sam swells with pride. He always enjoys seeing other people enjoy his food, especially a dish so special to his family. He feels like he’s flying again, something he’s missed severely. 

Then Bucky clears his throat obviously and says, “I have a date tomorrow.” 

His stomach drops as if he’d banked too far with his wings. He tries to right himself, “Really? Congrats!” He knows he sounds pretty hollow and he curses himself for being so selfish. He’s not sure how this date came to be; he can’t really picture Bucky approaching a woman nowadays but apparently he had. Or maybe she approached him. Someone did the approaching and now Bucky has a date. Sam promptly forces himself to stop thinking about it. 

He is happy for Bucky, taking in the other man’s small proud smile and tells him so. 

Sam comes home the next day and knows not to expect Bucky for a few hours, if at all, a traitorous voice whispers in his head. And well good for Bucky then, he thinks defiantly to the voice. 

When Bucky finally does come home, he looks content but tired. Sam’s making some tea to have before bed and he feels out of place in his ratty pajamas with Bucky dressed up the way he is.

“So,” Sam begins, aiming for casual and sorely missing, “how’d it go?” 

“Went well, we may go out again this weekend.” Bucky says and Sam can’t name the emotions he’s feeling in that moment. 

“You didn’t want to stay over?” Sam knows he’s fishing but he’s also wondering if he should offer to clear out next weekend in case Bucky wants to bring her over. 

“Nah. I mean he was real friendly,” and Bucky grins lasciviously while Sam loses the ability to breathe, “but I’m not too sure about him.”

Sam’s still gaping and Bucky instantly looks concerned. 

“What?” 

“Him?” Sam asks, voice a bit shrill, and Bucky pales. His face is horrified and Sam feels sick for putting the expression there. 

“I thought.. Two fellas.. Is that not ok?” Bucky obviously struggles to get his words out and his shoulders are dropping. He looks painfully young. Before Sam can reassure him, Bucky’s standing. 

“Listen, I know Steve’s wants me here but this is your house,” Bucky shakes his head when Sam opens his mouth to speak, “I can clear out by morning.” 

“Bucky, no,” Sam says and Bucky’s jaw clenches as he nods once. 

“I can leave now.” he says simply and Sam grabs his hand, the flesh one, throwing caution to the wind. 

“Bucky, listen to me. That is not what I meant. I was just surprised. I don’t care who you date,” which was a lie but not in the ways Bucky was thinking. The other man lets out a shaky breath and seems to regain a bit of color in his skin, “You sure?” 

Sam knows this is his chance. He looks at the man in front of him, who’s hurting from Sam’s words and curses his cowardice. 

“Real sure,” he swallows around the lie, “Bucky you have to know I’d never put you out. I like having you here. So never offer again ok?” He looks into icy blue eyes to hammer home how serious he is. As they make eye contact, his heart decides to do some hammering of it’s own. He breaks eye contact first, patting the other man’s arm before releasing him. 

“Way to pull the mood down,” Bucky huffs and Sam’s about to apologize before he sees humor glimmering in Bucky’s eyes. 

“Pretty sure you did that all on your own,” and Bucky snorts. “So tell me about your date.” Please don’t. “What’d you do?”

As Bucky describes the date, Sam fights to keep his facial expression under control. He can’t help his eyebrows dart up when Bucky mentions going to a bar, a crowded bar toward the end of the night. 

“He knows who I am.” Bucky says and Sam’s not surprised by that. He is surprised that Bucky still had enough social energy to recount the events of tonight to him. He’s tempted to offer to hear the rest tomorrow when Bucky mentions that he was invited back to this ‘Winston’s’ place. And didn’t he sound like a cornball. Bucky spares him the details but laughingly says, “Everything was kept above the waist, scouts honor.” 

Bucky had ducked out before things had gotten too heavy, feeling too wrung out to keep the night going. 

“Sounds like a good time.” Sam says sincerely. Bucky smiles and asks to see his laptop. 

“Yea sure. Mind me asking why?”

“Gonna find him online, that’s what you’re supposed to do after a date right?” 

Sam laughs and nods then he realizes this is his opportunity to be nosy. He grabs the computer and sets down next to Bucky. The man doesn’t say anything so he figures he has no problem with it. 

Bucky loads up Google and while he searches the name Sam entertains himself with what he thinks Winston looks like. He’s skinny for sure, Bucky seems the type that likes them small. He’s probably in his mid-twenties, blonde or light hair and probably didn’t make it to Bucky’s shoulders. Once he realizes he’s describing to himself what Steve looked like before the serum, Sam grimaces but he doubts he’s far from the truth. 

Then, the page loads and Sam’s jaw drops as Bucky starts clicking through Winston’s profile. Sam takes in Winston’s brown skin, darker than his own and big gap toothed grin. The similarities end there. Sam is no small guy but Winston is huge. In the picture Bucky pulled up, Winston is taller and broader than everyone else in the picture. He’s wearing a Brown University tee and Bucky, “hmm’s” at it. 

“That’s old, he graduated over a decade ago,” and Bucky rolls his eyes at some inside joke Sam isn’t privy to. 

“He seems like a good catch,” Bucky eyeballs him at the lukewarm response. Sam tries to smile back and find it easier than he thought. They look at the page for a bit until Bucky gets bored and goes to take a shower and go to bed. Sam watches him go sad, proud, and so in love it hurts. 

Bucky seems happy and if sometimes he comes home later than normal, then Sam isn’t comment. Winston seemed to be a passing fling, but that didn’t stop him from going on a few more dates. Sam is happy that Bucky is happy so he doesn’t say anything. 

Then, Bucky begins to have bad days again. They aren’t plentiful, but enough that Sam takes notice when the set of Bucky’s jaw is tighter and he’s quieter than usual. Sam approaches the man on one such day. 

“Everything ok?” Bucky’s jaw clenches. “Did someone say something to you?” He knows that Bucky being legally cleared didn’t get rid of all of the problems. There’s people out there who still wanted to vilify James Buchanan Barnes and protested when he walked free. They’d been lucky so far. Sure, they’d gotten a few stares but Sam wasn’t sure what he should chuck that up to. He also wasn’t sure how openly affectionate Bucky was with his dates. It only took one bigot to ruin a great date. 

Bucky huffs out a humorless laugh and shakes his head. They don’t talk about it more after that. Sam assumes it’s part of the recovery process, knowing Bucky’s bound to have some off days with all he’s been through, and just offers silent support.

Until one day, Bucky is still sitting at the kitchen table when Sam comes in to make himself breakfast. Bucky’s face is hidden by his hair but the way he holds himself tells Sam that something is seriously wrong. 

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” He looks up and Sam sucks in a breath. Bucky’s looks wrecked. His eyes are red and teary. Sam doesn’t ask again, although he wants to, and sits down with Bucky. Finally, after what feels like ages, Bucky speaks. 

“I lost the job.” Bucky says and Sam’s stomach drops. 

Sam can’t even school his expression as he stares and asks, “What happened?” 

Bucky takes in a shuddering breath. He explains he’d been accidentally breaking things. His arm had been spasming randomly and sometimes he lost control enough for something to slip from his grip. A little over a week of this and he’s placed on probation. Spilling ground coffee all over his manager had been the final straw. 

“I woke up this morning, figuring I could buy time for a few days to come up with something less pathetic than the truth but I couldn’t do it,” Bucky looks miserable and Sam notices he had dressed up for work. Sam’s heart clenches. 

“Can I hug you?” Bucky nods once and Sam leans over to gingerly wrap his arms around the other man. “This is bullshit,” he says and it is. Sam’s connections through the VA should be used to prosthetics. Sure, not this specific one but they could have talked to Sam first or given Bucky a referral before kicking him to the curb. He embraces Bucky tightly, sad and angry for him. 

“‘M gonna try again.” Bucky mutters against his chest and Sam eases up. Bucky straightens and his cheeks are slightly wet. 

“Maybe we should get that arm looked at first?” Sam suggests carefully and Bucky tenses. 

“Can’t,” but he doesn’t elaborate. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Always.” Bucky says simply, looking somewhat surprised that Sam looks surprised. 

Sam frowns, “have you been taking any pain killers?”

“They don’t work on me, Sam. I’ve got it handled.” But Sam calls in to work, stating that his hip is flaring up today. He feels slightly bad at the lie but he’d feel even worse leaving Bucky alone all day. 

Sam uses the chance to introduce Bucky to some quality music. Bucky seems to enjoy Marvin Gaye, looking amused when Let’s Get It On comes on. 

“Baby Makin music,” he says and Sam laughs too, though he’s feeling a bit hot under the collar. 

Once he figures out how to pull up songs on the laptop, Bucky shows Sam a few of his favorite songs too. Sam listens as if he’s been offered a gift. He knows Bucky’s memory can still be spotty so he feels privileged to be allowed to step into the past with the other man. 

Later, he lays in bed content with how the day had gone overall. For such a terrible start, he’s surprised that he’s feeling so happy. He’s still pissed on Bucky’s behalf and he knows he’s going to follow up on how the cafe handled Bucky’s case. The man had kept his word and looked up more jobs while Sam had cooked dinner. 

Sam falls asleep with the crooning voice of Rudy Vallée floating in his head.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. This fic will be 2-3 chapters. Rating likely to go up.


End file.
